


Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo (300 AU)

by Rioha



Category: 300 (2006), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, Coercion, Come play, Dubious Consent, Knife Play, M/M, PWP, Porn, Violence, XMFC and 300 Cross-Over, reposting old stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8175970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rioha/pseuds/Rioha
Summary: Prompt: "Erik aka "Stelios" is a short-tempered, semi-psychotic, blood thirty Spartan. Charles is a wealthy and educated pacifist from Athens. When the Spartans sack Athens, King Leonidas warriors are each promised one thing from the city to claim as their own, Stelios chooses Charles."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title shamelessly ripped off from Catullus 16 by Catullus, a Latin poet. Please expect all sorts of historical/cultural inaccuracies/fallacies. As there appears to be no Greek counterpart for the name Erik, I’ll use the old form Eirik. His soldier code is Stelios. The Greek counterpart of the name Charles is Karolos, according to Wikipedia, so I’ll use that here. Um, just go with it, please?
> 
> I'm reposting this from the kink meme after sooo many years. Raw. Didn't edit it anymore.

Darkness fell upon the city of Athens when its mighty gates gave way under the brute force of the Spartans. 

Karolos bade farewell to his family, his property, his city, his _life_ as soon as he felt the ground shake from the heavy marching of hundreds of Spartan soldiers. 

His frantic efforts to salvage his life’s work were cut short by a heavy hand pulling at his hair. He barely even caught a glimpse of his attacker before a sharp blow fell on his cheek and he lost consciousness.

 

_______________

 

He was drowning. He could not breathe from the cold water that had entered through his nostrils and his mouth. He gasped and tried to reach out to something, anything with which to anchor himself.

All of a sudden, he was pulled out from the water. 

“Are all of you Athenians so weak? I gave you a single blow and it took a tub of water to wake you. For a slave, you have proven to be of much trouble already,” said an irate voice. 

Karolos forced his eyes open to look at the man holding him by the shoulders tightly. He tilted his head up to meet the furious gaze of the savage warrior that took everything away from him. _I still have my freedom_ , he insisted to himself. _No one can deprive me of the freedom of my thoughts._

“It appears that you are uneducated, too. I shall punish you for daring to meet my eyes, slave,” threatened the warrior. 

Karolos fought his instinct to glare at his captor further. He lowered his gaze to the ground and bit his lip to keep his hatred from finding words. 

“I forbid you to bite your lips. Those are mine as well as any part of you. I have better uses for those lips. But first, you shall bathe me,” ordered man as he released Karolos and thereafter plunged into the enormous tub in his own abode.

“Any time today will be fine. The water had already turned cold,” grumbled the man as he started splashing about in his tub. 

Karolos was still rooted to spot where the warrior left him. He could not bear to serve any Spartan brute. He cannot. Rage was warming up his wet body. 

“I will count to three. If you are not washing my back by then, you will receive worse than that first blow that knocked you out for an entire day,” threatened the soldier.

“One.”

“Two.”

Deciding that suffering more abuse upon his body would not help him get his strength back, Karolos went near the tub. He reached for his wash cloth and proceeded to wash the blood and grime covering the back of the Spartan. 

“You appeared to be deaf there for a while,” said the soldier with a tone of voice that betrayed his contentment from Karolos’s attentions. He had begun scrubbing his captor’s broad chest. 

“I am Eirik but our King Leonidas calls me Stelios. You must tell anyone who claims you that you are under my protection,” said the warrior. 

“Do you understand?” he asked.

Karolos nodded, eyes averted from the soldier’s – Eirik’s – face. He also avoided gazing at the flat stomach of his captor that he was rubbing with the wash cloth.

“Look at me,” ordered Eirik softly. “Karolos.”

He raised his head up reflexively to meet Eirik’s gaze. He did not know how the soldier knew his name. 

“Do you understand what I told you, Karolos?” repeated Eirik, his green eyes filled with a different kind of heat this time. 

He nodded again.

“Say it aloud, Karolos.”

“I understand.”

“Wrong. Say it again,” and this time the tone of Eirik’s voice had sharpened.

“Yes, I understand, Eirik,” he said slowly, already knowing what his captor wanted from him. 

“Again. And this is your last chance, Karolos.” He felt the anger building inside Eirik. 

“I understand, _Master_ Eirik,” he said emotionlessly even though he wanted to cry out from the humiliation that he, Karolos, sole heir to the once powerful House of Xavier, was being subjected to at the hands of a lowly Spartan soldier. 

“Now that you have acknowledged your place, Karolos, you may now service me,” rasped Eirik.

The hand that he was using for washing was pushed by Eirik down his muscled body, further down until Karolos felt his master’s erect cock. 

Karolos’s hand moved of its own accord and it lightly traced the long, hard cock of this Spartan warrior before him. When it reached the tip, Eirik arched his back and raised his hips to press his groin harder against his palm.

“Touch me,” urged Eirik, breath hot upon his neck. 

Allowing his instincts to guide him, and while trying to ignore the loud beating of his heart, Karolos wrapped both his hands over Eirik’s manhood.

This elicited a moan from Eirik and the sound echoed in the confines of his chamber. 

_Tighten your hold, please._

Karolos stilled. Eirik did not speak yet he heard his plea. 

He moved his head away so he could see the Spartan’s face. Eirik’s eyes were closed, his jaw clenched. 

When Karolos remained unmoving, Eirik opened his eyes to meet his gaze.

_I do not want to force him but I need relief._

He heard Eirik’s voice very clearly yet the warrior’s mouth remained unmoving. 

_Perhaps I need to awaken his desire. I refuse to couple with someone cold and unwilling._

It happened again. “Is my hearing failing me? Did I imagine all of those?” thought Karolos, brows furrowed, distracted. His eyes wandered around the room, simply to affirm that there was no else in there but the two of them. 

Several things happened in quick succession and Karolos was unprepared for them. 

Eirik rose from the bath, naked, and Karolos’s eyes took in the sight of the Spartan’s bronzed, muscled and virile body before he was swept off his feet by strong arms. 

All that Karolos could do was hold on to Eirik’s broad shoulders as he was carried to his bedchamber. 

Carnal images thereafter burst forth in his head:

_Eirik was on kneeling before him, sucking the tip of his cock._

_He was clutching the sheets tightly he was penetrated by two of Eirik’s long, thick fingers._

_Eirik was lying on his bed, watching him as he began to lower himself upon Eirik’s cock._

_His hips were moving in circular motions while he rode Eirik’s lap with abandon._

Heat suffused Karolos’s entire body so intensely that he felt lightheaded. He was not aware that he was moaning incoherently, that he was frantically thrusting his erection against any part of Eirik’s torso, desperate to come. 

“Karolos, look at me. What is happening to you?” asked Eirik, shaking him gently.

“You! What have you done to me?” he groaned, still caught in delirium.

“Calm down, Karolos. What do you mean?” This time, Eirik’s voice was tinged with anxiety. 

Eirik carefully lowered him on his bed then touched his forehead.

Karolos stopped fighting his instincts. He tugged open his white robe to bare his leaking cock and pulled Eirik down, his arms and legs wrapped tightly around Eirik until their bodies were pressed together.

“Please, make me come!” he cried repeatedly, thrusting his cock against Eirik’s. 

_Karolos!_ shouted Eirik in his mind while moving over him, building friction between them that further heightened his desire. 

His cock was leaking profusely and he realized Eirik’s was, too, as their abdomens became slippery and he heard wet, squelching sounds over their groans. 

Karolos had never felt more wanton in his life. At that moment, he was merely flesh and blood, human, and his sole concern in the world was to come.

Eirik’s voice resonated in his mind:

_You smell so good! It’s intoxicating._

_After we come, I’ll lick your cock clean…_

_Then I’m going to fuck you, Karolos! Fuck you so hard!_

“Yes, yes, yes! Eirik!” was all he was able to say before the fever in body concentrated on his groin then burst forth from the slit at the tip of his cock along with thick, white ropes of come.

He was barely conscious when he heard Eirik call out his name. Eirik’s grip on his hips became so tight as to be painful until hot stripes of Eirik’s come painted his torso. 

Karolos succumbed to the weariness that he felt and allowed himself to fall asleep, with Eirik’s body protecting him from the coolness of the night.

 

_______________

 

Insatiable. 

Eirik was insatiable. 

Karolos was roused from his sleep by the sharp nip at the tip of his cock but before he could complain, Eirik opened his warm, wet mouth wider to engulf his cock deeply. 

“Oh!” Karolos gripped the sheets tightly as he felt his penis swell inside Eirik’s throat. Every time Eirik swallowed, Karolos jolted from the almost painful pleasure on his cock. 

He thought he was spent, that he needed more rest, but his body, which was now writhing in ecstasy, did not want to obey him. It only knew its master, Eirik. 

“Ump!” he uttered involuntarily, the sound escaping from the lips he tried to keep seal with his teeth, when Eirik laved at the head of his shaft. 

He closed his eyes to gain control of his breathing, to keep himself from coming, when he felt two fingers trace the shape of his mouth. 

Karolos looked down and met Eirik’s eyes, the pupils so dark and dilated, he could no longer see the green color that surrounds them. 

“Open your mouth,” ordered Eirik, his hot breath teasing his engorged cock. 

Slowly, he obeyed. Eirik’s fingers pushed to open his lips, past his teeth until he felt them on his tongue, stuffing his throat.

“Suck,” Eirik commanded. “Suck them or I will not continue this.” His tongue laved his shaft, from root to tip while his eyes continued to prod him wordlessly to comply. 

Watching Eirik’s mouth move hungrily over his cock intensified the heat that pooled in his lower abdomen, his groin. 

A small push of those fingers was all it took for his hesitation to dissolve. He grabbed Eirik’s hand to gain some leverage as he opened his mouth to suck hard, as he tried to match the pressure that he felt on his hard shaft.

“Good, so good. I knew you’d be good at this Karolos,” crooned Eirik as he let two, then three of Eirik’s fingers fuck his mouth. 

He was beginning to lose himself from feeling so full with those fingers in his mouth that he did not notice that Eirik was now sitting on the bed as Karolos’s cock continued to throb from the attention it received from his captor’s mouth. 

“Now,” whispered Eirik in his ear as he looked up, still gorging on three, long, thick fingers, “I think you’re ready for more.” 

Eirik pulled his fingers from his mouth and Karolos moaned in protest. He felt so empty. 

“Shh. It’s alright,” soothed Eirik while stroking his hair. “I have something for you because you’ve been so good, Karolos,” Eirik whispered as he gently guided Karolos’s head towards him. 

“Come here. Sit up, Karolos.” Erik’s voice was almost a rasp, hypnotizing him into submission. 

“Your lips are swollen,” observed Eirik as he tilted Karolos’s chin up, appraising him. 

“Why are you fairer than most of the women of Athens? And why are your lips more red than theirs, Karolos?” asked Eirik as he thumbed Karolos’s lower lip gently. 

“Why do you know my name?” he wondered aloud. 

_Don’t you remember me?_

Karolos looked at Eirik inquiringly to determine if Eirik knew that he heard those thoughts but Eirik merely smirked. “Why do you ask too many questions?”

“I do not --!” Karolos tried to express his indignation but his lips were silenced by Eirik’s. He groaned as Eirik pull him close, their naked bodies pressed together, before pushing his tongue aggressively inside Karolos’s mouth. 

But as soon as Karolos’s tongue met his, Eirik pulled back and ended the kiss. 

Frustrated, angry at being forced not to have any control over their coupling, Karolos forgot that he was not with a lover or a suitor, but with a warrior who claimed him as a slave. 

“You – you arrogant Spartan! I am not interested in your games! How dare you treat me like this!” he declared haughtily, in a manner fit for an Athenian of his stature, as he pushed away from Eirik. 

He rose to leave the bed but Eirik’s long limbs captured him then pinned him down. 

“Release me at once!” Karolos demanded, his eyes filled with anger. His face felt hot and he knew his embarrassment showed on his damnably fair skin. 

“And if I don’t?” asked Erik with a voice filled with amusement, grinning from ear to ear, looking predatory with all those teeth and that strong jaw. 

Karolos remained silent. He looked away from Eirik and stiffened his body. He felt humiliated. He became aware once again that he was here for this soldier’s amusement, a small token of appreciation from their savage king for defeating the defenses of the city of Athens. 

“What is wrong?” inquired Eirik as he placed a small kiss on his temple. 

“Tell me.” A kiss on his ear.

“Karolos.” A kiss on his neck. 

“You really do not remember?” A kiss on the center of his chest.

“You said I was impertinent.” A kiss on his left nipple, followed by a bite and then a wet, soothing tongue. 

“That my theories were wrong.” A kiss on the dip of his waist before Eirik’s tongue followed the thin line of hair from his stomach to the root of his cock, which was still swollen, begging for attention. 

“That I should not even send gifts as I was entirely unsuitable.” This time, Eirik’s voice lost its teasing tone. 

Eirik’s accusing stare caught his eyes, daring him to deny the memory of that day at the temple when Karolos was still a young man who was beginning to gain recognition as a scholar in philosophy. 

Karolos was answering questions from the crowd when a handsome man with the most compelling green eyes raised his hand to be acknowledged and upon being given by him leave to speak, presented a theory that showed the weaknesses in Karolos’s own position on the same issue.

After the gathering, the man approached him to introduce himself but Karolos did not allow him to talk any further. He dismissed the man curtly as he did not handle criticism well when he was still so young. 

“You --? But you’re a Spartan. What were you doing here? On that day?” Karolos asked, bewildered by this revelation. He sat up and curled his legs, shielding his nakedness from Eirik. 

“Studying the art of war,” answered Eirik mockingly. 

“A spy! You were spying on us!” he accused. 

“Yes. Know thy enemy. Is that not important, my lord Xavier?” Eirik challenged him to deny the truth of his words.

An enemy to be conquered then used, destroyed. Karolos knew how the Spartans lived for war and how they ensured that enemies that had been defeated will never retaliate again – by killing them. 

Karolos wanted to laugh. He really did. 

He was no longer a young man to be enslaved by lust. He had had many lovers and suitors. He was already being pressured by his peers in politics to choose an eromenos among their sons. 

The noble and powerful House of Xavier had fallen at the feet of a lowly, barbaric Spartan soldier who used sorcery to seduce him. No. Karolos did not believe he could desire someone like… him, without some form of manipulative force. 

“Does the Spartan army teach sorcery along with the art of war?” he asked disdainfully, tilting his chin arrogantly. He had been humiliated but he shall not be the one to acknowledge it. 

Eirik did not respond. He merely looked at him impassively. 

Karolos held the sheet over his naked body, rose from the bed and reached for his discarded robe.

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Eirik. 

He sighed, exasperated at having to state the obvious. “I am putting on my robe. I must not die without any clothes on. It is unbecoming of an Xavier,” Karolos answered, back turned to Eirik. 

The sound of fabric being ripped destroyed the silence and Karolos realized he was naked once again. His robe lay in shreds at his feet and Eirik, who had a gleaming dagger in his hand, was before him, smiling menacingly. 

“Your body shall remain unclothed as long as I wish, Karolos. I thought an intelligent man like you understood what being a slave entails,” Eirik whispered against his ear as his neck was bared forcefully by the heavy hand that was pulling his hair. 

“Are you so eager for a taste of my dagger that you would deliberately test my patience?” asked Eirik. 

Karolos felt the sharp tip of the blade moving lightly over his neck. He suppressed his breathing but he forced himself not to show fear. 

“Why do you do this, Karolos, when we could have been enjoying pleasure together?” continued Eirik. 

This time, the blade grazed his nipple and Karolos felt a spike of fear and… and arousal in his gut. He sucked in his breath loudly when the dagger rested in the dip at the center of his stomach and Eirik’s mouth closed upon his nipple that was still burning from being abraded by the knife. 

His nipple was treated with hot, wet flicks of Eirik’s tongue. Karolos wanted to moan, to push his hips against Eirik’s but the weight of the tip of the blade against his skin forced him to keep still as Eirik sucked his nipple, rolling it around in his tongue, and biting it teasingly…

When his other nipple was subjected to the same attentions, Karolos had to bite his lips to keep himself from begging. His cock was hard once again, so hard that it stood to attention against his stomach. 

The pressure on his nipple caused his cock to leak eagerly. He heard the dagger drop to the floor and then he felt Eirik’s hand on his shaft. A moan escaped reluctantly from his throat as Eirik’s rough hand squeezed his cock hard before it spread the wetness that gathered at the tip down to the root. 

His nipple was burning from the relentless attentions that Eirik paid to it. 

“Eirik,” he pleaded, on the edge. 

“Tell me, Karolos. Tell me what you want,” urged Eirik while the tip of his cock was caressed with circular motions, light and heavy pressure alternating, burning him.

“Fuck me, please. Fuck me,” he moaned, pushing his hips against Eirik’s, his arms around Eirik’s broad shoulders. 

“I will, Karolos. You’ll feel me in you,” promised Eirik heatedly. “But first I want to come in your mouth,” he said before claiming Karolos’s lips with a possessive kiss.

Karolos barely had time to get lost in the kiss when Eirik ended it and pushed him to his knees. 

“I want you to earn the privilege of finding pleasure in my arms, Karolos. Show me why I should give you what you want,” ordered Eirik as Karolos kneeled before him. 

“Take my shaft in that impertinent mouth of yours,” said Eirik as he ran his long, hard cock over Karolos’s smooth cheek and along his lips. 

“No? You refuse to obey?” taunted Eirik as he pushed his cock between Karolos’s lips, smearing them with his essence. 

Eirik kept pushing, gently, but insistently and when Karolos raised his gaze, he sensed that Eirik was daring him to --- to do it.

“You do not know how to give pleasure, Karolos? But of course. You must have been a very passive lover, and selfish,” said Eirik bemusedly, as he stroked Karolos’s hair. 

“I’ve had men, women like you. From the elite, from privileged, powerful families. You only know how to take,” Eirik continued, now with a trace of anger and… disappointment. He released Karolos’s hair and stepped away.

Karolos did not know what to say. He followed Eirik with his gaze, noting the graceful movements of his long, sculpted body, his battle-scarred, golden skin, his wild, dark blonde hair. 

Eirik lied down on the bed and began to stroke his own cock. 

His eyes were closed. He was probably thinking of his wife in Sparta, or another lover, Karolos mused, someone who knew how to please him. It was so easy for him to forget Karolos was even there, that he was hard for Karolos. 

“Spartan, if you must do that, do it somewhere else. No one can use my bed while he’s…” Karolos stopped when Eirik’s eyes opened and looked at up Karolos who was hovering over him. 

“I am losing patience with you. You’d better tread carefully,” Eirik seethed as he rose from the bed and left Karolos alone. 

 

_______________

 

Karolos must have fallen asleep again. When he gained consciousness, his room was bathed in sunlight. 

He was still alone on his bed. 

“You must be the famous Karolos,” greeted a Spartan soldier who was standing by the door. He was holding a tray laden with bread, grapes, olive oil and water. 

Karolos raised the sheet further up his body. 

“What did you do to my friend, Athenian?” asked the soldier curiously with a small smile on his face. He drew nearer to place the tray on the table by his bedside. 

He kept staring at Karolos. Thus, Karolos stared at him. He was younger than Eirik, much younger, and he had less scars on his body. He had dark hair that was trimmed, and reached only up to his ears, unlike Eirik’s long, wild mane.

“How could a small thing like you test Stelios’s legendary patience?” he continued as he leaned against the wall. His manner was polite and yet, Karolos sensed that this man – this boy -- disliked him. 

“Where is Ei—Stelios?” he asked. 

“Now you ask? Maybe he left,” replied the soldier, watching him closely for his reaction. 

“Answer me,” ordered Karolos. He was now sitting up, ready to run for the dagger that was left by the foot of his bed. 

“Oh, Athenian, you have no right --”

“I’m here,” announced Eirik. “Astinos, stop baiting his lordship,” he told the soldier. 

“Stelios, he’s a slave,” argued the boy, Astinos.

“My friend, a treaty is being negotiated as we speak. Any member of the House of Xavier is a free man. We are here to ensure his lordship’s safety,” explained Eirik, keeping his eyes averted from Karolos’s. 

“Is that why you were called by King Leonidas earlier?” inquired Astinos with a soft voice, moving closer to Eirik, as if to exclude Karolos from the conversation.

“Yes. And we have to escort him for an audience with the King tomorrow,” confirmed Eirik. “Thank you for taking over for me,” he added, patting the young man’s shoulders.

“You owe me, don’t you dare think a thank you will do the trick,” scoffed Astinos, but even to a stranger like Karolos, the young soldier’s fondness for Eirik was apparent.

“Fine,” replied Eirik flatly, before shoving Astinos out of the room playfully. 

 

_______________

 

Eirik was still laughing when he turned to Karolos. All the joviality left his demeanor when their eyes met.

“My lord, please break your fast,” gesturing to the tray of food. “I’ll be sitting here on the floor so as not to soil your bed.”

Karolos reached for the food by his table. “I thought you’d…” he began. He took a drink of water. 

Eirik still had his back to him. 

“Would you please look at me when I am talking to you?” Karolos asked sternly.

“Oh, pardon my rudeness, my lord Xavier,” said Eirik stiffly, now facing him. 

“I need you to clarify something for me. Am I still a prisoner?”

Eirik shook his head.

“A slave?”

“No.”

“What is my status now, then?” Karolos inquired.

“You are a free man, my lord Xavier. We are here to ensure your safety. King Leonidas requests your presence tomorrow for the negotiation of the treaty. The council requires your inputs,” explained Eirik, his tone very formal. 

Karolos did not pay attention to the rest of Eirik’s statements about his political obligations. “If I’m a free man, I may do as I please, correct?” he interrupted.

“Why – yes, of course, my lord.”

“It’s too late for you to address me as your lord, Eirik,” he pointed out wryly.

“My apologies for any offense,” responded Eirik, in that same formal tone, and still very carefully avoiding his eyes.

Karolos did not know why he wanted to say what he was about to say but he was certain he will regret it when the Spartan congregation left his city tomorrow or the day after once the treaty is in place. 

“If I’m a free man…” Karolos paused to rise from his bed. He walked towards Eirik, his pulse quickening as the distance between them shortened, until it disappeared. His toes were touching Eirik’s. 

Karolos felt heat spread throughout his naked body as Eirik’s eyes went over it slowly, starting from his bare feet, up the length of his legs that showed his fondness for running, his cock that was beginning to harden, his hips that bore imprints of Eirik’s hands, his flat stomach, his nipples that were still swollen, his neck that had been abraded by the stubble on Eirik’s jaw, his lips that he licked, reflexively, as their gazes met. 

“Yes?” asked Eirik, voice deeper, softer. He was looking at Karolos with wariness but the desire he felt was still evident based on his dilated pupils. 

Karolos cleared his throat. “As I was saying, if I’m a free man, then I can freely give you pleasure. That is, if you still wish me to do so,” he said quickly before he lost his nerve. 

Eirik remained silent.

He tried a different tactic. Karolos placed his left hand on his waist, cocked his hip to the left and held out his right hand to Eirik. “Well?” Karolos demanded, arching his right eyebrow slightly.

Eirik did not take his hand. Instead, he was pushed against the wall, and pinned there by this tall, enraged Spartan soldier. 

“My lord Xavier,” Eirik said stiffly, “I must give you fair warning that if you do not cease teasing me, I will have no choice but to --”

“To what? Take me? Because I want you to, Eirik,” goaded Karolos, his eyes half-lidded, his lips wet and red. 

“I will be forced to leave you and get Astinos to guard your door,” finished Eirik. His hands on Karolos’s shoulders were trembling. 

“Don’t leave, Eirik. Don’t leave me again,” pleaded Karolos as he wrapped his legs around Eirik’s waist tightly, wantonly pushing his swollen cock against Eirik’s rough loincloth. 

“If you…” Eirik swallowed and then took a deep breath, as if he were trying to compose himself, before continuing, “wish to play around, go look for your Athenian admirers.”

“Is that so?” Karolos asked, tone acerbic, gaze sharp. “But I simply want to get fucked _hard_ , Eirik. I already told you so last night. Will you walk out on me again? I am beginning to think you’re not up to the task.”

“Perhaps I no longer wish to fuck you, my lord Xavier,” responded Eirik obstinately.

Karolos smiled at him sweetly and batted his thick, long eyelashes at him. Peering up through the rich, dark brown locks of hair that have fallen over his face, he asked, “Are you sure about that? Even after I do this?” 

Using his legs and thighs, Karolos managed to free himself from Eirik’s grip. He pushed Eirik’s back against the wall. He tore off Eirik’s loincloth with one hand while the other was flattened over Eirik’s stomach, using it to brace himself against Eirik as he fell to his knees. 

Eyes alight with mischief, Karolos swooped down on Eirik’s hard cock, opening his mouth wide as he extended his tongue out to lick the tip where thick liquid had already gathered. 

Eirik growled but he did not tear his eyes away from Karolos. His hands have curled into fists but he held them against the wall. 

Karolos licked up and down the thick length of Eirik’s shaft, moaning, smacking his lips every so often, and wantonly showing Eirik how much he enjoyed what he was doing. 

He cradled Eirik’s heavy testicles gently with his hand and licked them too, savoring the sensation of softness beneath the roughness of the skin and of Eirik’s guttural moans. 

Firmly holding the base of Eirik’s cock, Karolos proceeded to push his mouth down the thick shaft, alternating between breathing and holding his breath as more and more of Eirik was engulfed tightly by his mouth, his throat. 

Karolos’ heart was beating rapidly and he felt light-headed from desire, from the lack of air in his body as Eirik’s cock throbbed in his mouth. He wanted to moan, he wanted to thrust his own leaking cock against Eirik’s leg, or his feet. 

He wished he could push down further but he knew he had reached his limit. Knowing he could not take the whole length of Eirik down his throat made desire spike up sharply from his groin to his spine and through his mouth, causing him to retreat and then push back up to his limit, repeatedly, intoxicated from the sensations of fullness, of desire, of the sharpness Eirik’s musk in his nose, of the desperate sounds of Eirik’s groans, of the heat of Eirik’s eyes on him, on his mouth that was opened, slack-jawed, spit running down Eirik’s shaft, on his hand that was squeezing the tip of his own hard cock, to keep himself from coming. 

Karolos felt Eirik’s cock twitch inside his mouth. From the thick, bitter cream that coated his tongue, he knew that Eirik was close to losing control. 

_Beg me now, Eirik. Beg me,_ thought Karolos as he pursed his lips around Eirik’s shaft tighter, sucked harder. 

“No, stop. I want--” Eirik protested as he grabbed Karolos by the hair to pull his cock out of Karolos’s voracious mouth.

Gasping, short of breath, and surprised, Karolos relented to the pressure pulling his head away from Eirik’s cock, then he looked up at the pained expression on Eirik’s sweaty face. He felt satisfied for bringing this strong, proud Spartan soldier to the edge of losing control. His bruised lips twisted smugly as he asked, “What is it? What do you want, Eirik?”

“I want to come – I _need_ to come,” Eirik answered tersely, voice hoarse.

“Then come,” invited Karolos with an enticing smile despite the firm hold that Eirik maintained on his hair. He gripped the head of Eirik’s cock, however, and used his thumb to put pressure over the leaking tip. “But only after you admit that you still want me, that you’ve wanted me all these years,” he demanded. 

Eirik was breathing erratically; his jaw was locked tight with restraint even as his eyes were ensnared by Karolos’s. 

_I cannot come before he does. Not this time,_ Karolos told himself and he tried to fight off his impending orgasm by squeezing his cock harder. _I must push him…_

“Tell me, Eirik, tell me you want me and I’d let you come on body, my face,” goaded Karolos. He parted his swollen lips slightly, invitingly. 

“Fuck, fuck!” shouted Eirik as he lifted Karolos off of the floor. He threw Karolos on the bed and straddled him. 

“You are the most infuriating man! I was cursed by the gods when I laid eyes upon you. I should not want you, Karolos, but I do. Damn you but I do…” 

Eirik shuddered as his seed spilled forth from his cock, bathing Karolos in warm rivulets of come that fell on his chest, his neck, his mouth, cheek, on one of his ears. 

Karolos held onto Eirik’s waist as he pushed his hard cock against the firmness of Eirik’s bottom. One brush of his shaft against that ass was all it took for Karolos to come so hard that he had to shut his eyes while his whole body shook from the pleasure pulsing through his veins. 

_______________

 

 _Wake up, wake up. We have so little time left,_ said Eirik. _Karolos, wake up!_

When Karolos opened his eyes, he could still hear Eirik’s voice clearly even though Eirik was kissing him, licking off the threads of come that had fallen on his neck, his face. 

“Hmmm,” Karolos moaned. He stretched his arms out and arched his back slightly, luxuriating in the satisfaction that only came from a bone-deep orgasm.

He wasn’t able to prevent himself from smiling at the man who was lying over him and who was looking at his mouth hungrily.

“Finally, his lordship recovers. Do all Athenians have very little stamina?” asked Eirik, one eyebrow arched challengingly although he was grinning at Karolos. 

“You --” Karolos replied dryly as he pushed the tip of his index finger at Eirik’s chin, “—want to talk about stamina? Were you not the proud Spartan who came without even needing to be touched? And after you have confessed how much you wanted me?”

Eirik’s grin became predatory. “Oh, but that was after you _begged_ this lowly Spartan soldier to fuck your smooth, white Athenian ass, if I recall correctly,” he countered before biting Karolos’s index finger playfully.

“That, however, was something that you failed to do,” argued Karolos, still determined to have the upper hand.

“That – is something that I’ll be doing to you – in a moment,” promised Eirik as he pushed his long, hard cock against Karolos’s hips before reaching for the jar of olive oil on the bedside table. 

_______________

 

Karolos felt his cock stir awake. 

He knew he should not seek pleasure this way. He did not know how this practice was viewed in Sparta but in Athens, only servants and those of lower stature subjected themselves to this – getting fucked in the ass. 

Still, he wanted to experience it for himself. His previous lovers allowed him to do it to them and they seemed to enjoy it. 

Before yesterday, before Eirik claimed him as a slave, he was used to fingering himself until he came. His most intense orgasms had always been when he stimulated himself at that place deep inside him. He did not even need to touch his cock to come. 

He had only been able to use up to three fingers on himself before the pain of being stretched became unbearable. He’d then he’d revert to using two fingers only until he was spent. 

Eirik’s fingers were longer, thicker than his. And Eirik’s cock was definitely bigger than three of his own fingers. He should be worried of the possibility of pain but all he could think about was how full he would feel if – no, not if – _when_ he is able to take in all of Eirik. 

The anticipation was too much. Eirik still had not touched him. He only held the jar of oil in his hand as his eyes feasted on Karolos’s naked body. 

“Several moments have passed, Spartan. Perhaps a moment means something else to you,” Karolos said impishly. He spread his legs wide open, displaying his hard cock and the small, puckered entrance to his body. 

“I was simply trying to see if this rosebud will open for me easily,” responded Eirik as he lightly traced the skin around the hole. 

Karolos gasped as heat pooled low in his stomach. He moaned when Eirik attempted to push one slick finger inside the hole but his body reflexively closed it tightly. 

“It seems I have to convince it to let me in with gentle kisses first,” Eirik said, his voice hoarse. He pushed back one of Karolos’s knees then lowered his head between the juncture of Karolos’s pale, smooth but hard thighs.

When Karolos felt Eirik’s tongue lick his hole slowly, with upwards and downwards movements, he shuddered and buried his fingers in Eirik’s long, wild hair. It was the most carnal sensation he had ever felt. 

Eirik was kissing him – it – fervently, using his lips, his tongue. It was so wet. Karolos was so wet down there. And he was losing his mind. All he was capable of doing was riding the waves of desire that threatened to take him away. His tight hold on Eirik’s hair was his only anchor. 

_Yes, yes, beg me, Karolos. Tell me how hungry you are for my cock._

Each movement of Eirik’s lips and tongue further caused the fever in his veins to intensify. He needed relief. 

And then he felt it -- a brief but sharp pain lanced deep inside him. Its contrast from the desire that was clouding his mind with a sweet, intoxicating feeling jolted him and made him open his eyes.

The sight of Eirik’s open mouth and lascivious tongue bathing his hole even as three of Eirik’s fingers pushed inside him made his cock gush with pre-come, warning him of his tenuous hold on control. 

“Eirik, please! I want to come when you’re in me!” cried Karolos as he pulled Eirik’s head up and he wrapped his legs around Eirik’s lean waist. 

“Fuck me, fuck me, please, Eirik!” he chanted, delirious.

“Karolos,” he whispered as he gently held Karolos’s face, soothing him. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” assured Eirik. With slow, circular motions of his hips, he succeeded in pushing in the head of cock inside Karolos. 

Both of them were sweating profusely. 

“You are so tight. I almost could not breathe,” murmured Eirik before he took a bite at Karolos’s shoulder. 

Karolos was incapable of responding. His heart was beating heavily as his body tried to adjust to the invasion of Eirik’s cock. He was breathing shallowly; he felt so full that taking in more air in his lungs than what was necessary may overwhelm him. He did not want to faint. He hoped he won’t faint before coming. 

Eirik pulled out slowly before quickly pushing in and as he repeated these motions, all Karolos was able to do was hold on to Eirik tightly, his nails digging into the muscles that lined Eirik’s back. 

Fierce green eyes ensnared him.

_So tight, so sweet, so fuckable…I’ll make it so good for you that you’ll never forget me…_

“Eirik, I – I can’t--! Help me!” he groaned while he was trying to catch his breath. It felt too much. Karolos was drowning in pleasure that was laced with pain as his flesh struggled to accommodate Eirik’s thickness.

Karolos looked down to where they were connected and his cock twitched when he noticed that Eirik was not even halfway in him. 

“Please!” He doubted if he could wait for Eirik. He wanted to come; he needed to come, now.

Eirik took both of Karolos’s ankles and pushed them up over his own shoulders and this made his shaft move further in Karolos’s tight, hot depths. 

Their moans were guttural, animalistic. 

“A little bit more,” uttered Eirik through his teeth. He cupped Karolos’s bottom with his hands and pulled Karolos to him even as he thrust down, and hard. 

“Eirik!” screamed Karolos as he took Eirik’s cock in his body completely. He was not going to last. It was too much. He was being subjected to too much pleasure as Eirik kept fucking him, pushing and pulling, stretching him. It was so good that it was painful.

Deeper, harder. Higher, hotter. 

He was lost. The fever took over his consciousness. Instinct guided him as he pushed back, as he tightened his legs around Eirik’s shoulders. So close. So fucking close.

Eirik braced his arms higher near Karolos’s head and then he changed the rhythm of his hips. Fast, slow, hard, slow, almost pulling out completely them burying himself deeply, to the hilt. Over and over again. Relentless. 

He rolled his hips and hit that spot that Karolos loved to jab with his fingers whenever he pleasured himself. With slow, circular motions, Eirik’s cock pushed against that spot. Karolos was losing his mind. 

_Please, please, let me come!_

Karolos needed relief. It was almost unbearable. His fingernails scraped at Eirik’s back. He bit Eirik’s ear to retaliate. He pushed back, faster, as fast as his hips would allow him. 

His cock was leaking and the sweat and pre-come that coated his stomach produced squelching sounds whenever Eirik's stomach slid over Karolos’s. These sounds emphasized the debauchery they were indulging in. 

“I can’t anymore! Touch me, please! I need to c-come!” pleaded Karolos. “Have mercy, Eirik!”

“Have I ever told you that you have a beautiful cock?” asked Eirik as he caressed it, thumb pressing lightly at a protruding vein. “I’d like to ride it later,” he added softly, as if he were a shy virgin admitting to something naughty and improper. 

The eroticism of the images evoked by Eirik’s words coupled with the rough hand on his cock and the hard thrusts that pressed Eirik’s shaft against that spot deep inside him drove Karolos to the brink. Warm, thick spurts of come shot out from Karolos’s cock as his lips cried Eirik’s name. 

Everything faded to black.

THE END.


End file.
